


Blind Justice

by provencepuss



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:57:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provencepuss/pseuds/provencepuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written in 2007</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blind Justice

 

PREFACE  
Some readers will recognize some of the scenes in this story. I worked on a joint story on website and like many writers I re-use short sketches from earlier writing; or I used the earlier writing to experiment with the idea.whatever; this is really what I had in mind when I wrote the scene

 

Every war has had its atrocities; and since the beginning of time no army can be exempted.  
We have become used to seeing them reported on our TV screens  the Holocaust; mass shootings in Bosnia; inter-tribe killings in Africa; the Janjaweed in Darfur; Abu Gharaib etc., etc., etc. ad infinitum and ad nauseam.

Apart from that  all resemblance to any person living or deadetc..etc..etc. except, of course, for Lt William Calley.

 

 

 

  


(Illustrated by Anja)  


** BLIND JUSTICE **

 

It was a smoggy heavy day in LA.  Starsky was driving with the windows closed and his new air-conditioner turned up to maximum.  He slipped the Torino into his favorite spot in front of the entrance to the precinct station and sat in the cool air for a few more seconds before sighing and switching off the engine.  He opened the car door and the polluted air stung his eyes and made his nose run.  He sniffed and bounced up the steps two by two, relieved to get inside the air-conditioned building.

 

Hutch was already at his desk. Despite the air-con, his shirt was already stained with sweat and his blond hair stuck to his head.  Starsky wandered in cool and relaxed and Hutch smiled to greet him.

“Hi buddy, hot day, huh?”  Starsky ran a friendly hand along his partner’s shoulder in a familiar greeting.  “You should have changed your trashcan on wheels for something with an air system instead of spending that dough on your greenhouse.  Wow I’ll bet your apartment’s like a sauna right now.”

“It’s not a greenhouse…oh what’s the use…and yes, it has made the place a little warmer.”

 

Starsky picked up a couple of mugs and instinctively looked inside them to check they were clean.  He poured two cups of coffee from a full (and, he hoped, fresh) pot and held one out to Hutch.

“Shit that’s hot…what I need is iced coffee, not this.”

“Drink it - I learned a long time ago that hot food and drinks help you sweat it out when the weather’s like this.”

“Jungle wisdom?”

“Kumbaya to you too!”

 

The other cops watched this cheerful exchange and smiled.  Starsky and Hutch bounced off one another like the ball in a squash court; they had their own crazy code too and the last volley reflected their so-different careers when they were younger.  As Starsky once put it succinctly; while he had been in the jungle, Hutch had been singing folk songs for peace.

 

Dobey’s office door opened and Starsky winked at his partner from his perch on the back of a chair.  “I need to see you two, now.”

“Come on Toto, time to see the wizard.” Starsky piped in a high falsetto.  Hutch rolled his eyes and Dobey harrumphed to hide his amusement.

 

“It’s ugly.”  Dobey handed a photo to Hutch who looked at it once and swallowed hard before handing it to his partner.  Starsky looked at it without a word.

“This is the third killing like this.  The FBI thinks there is a revenge element.”

The two detectives looked up at the mention of the FBI.  Starsky spoke first.  “And do we get to hear where the first two happened?”

“Joe Canning; took a bullet in the head in a suburb of Chicago about three months ago.

The second man was more difficult to identify until they found his army dental records…his name was Cliff Spencer and he died in Miami.  We have one possible link.  They were all in uniform when they died; and they were all veterans.”

Hutch was about to ask the obvious question but again Starsky got there first.

“This guy looks familiar.  Do we have an ID on him yet?”

Hutch was trying to see how a man who had half his head shot off could look familiar even to his nearest and dearest – but Starsky had a near photographic memory for faces.

“No, not yet.  First thing you two could do is go through files and mug books.”

“Yeah.”  Starsky was still holding the photo loosely in his hand.

“But more important, gentleman…I want you to find who it was killed him and stop him before he does it again.”

“Yeah.”  Starsky’s voice was dull.  Hutch wondered what was troubling him.

As they stood to leave, the outer door opened and a colonel in full uniform walked in. Starsky stiffened and Hutch could feel the hostility.

“Lieutenant, despite the old uniform jacket I don’t think we need to salute.”

“No s...” he stopped abruptly.  He tapped Hutch on the arm and said “come on Blondie we have work to do.”

“I have every confidence that you will do it well, Lieutenant.”  Starsky left the room with Hutch close on his heels.  Hutch heard him mutter something about a Jag and wondered why his friend was suddenly interested in English cars.

 

 

 

“Hey, you want a beer before we go home?”

“Good idea.”  Starsky looked up from the photo that he was still staring at while Hutch was finishing off an old report.  They stood up to leave and when they reached the door Starsky skipped back to his desk.  “No point in taking more work home than I have to.”

 

They went to Huggy’s and asked for a pitcher of beer.  Huggy brought them a bowl of pretzels to go with it and Starsky was chewing absent-mindedly while Hutch poured the beer.

“OK which surprise are you going to hit me with first?”

“Huh?”

“Starsk, he called you Lieutenant.  Now that means there are two things I don’t know.  One is how come you never told me you were an Officer; and two how come he knew you.”

Starsky swallowed the pretzels and took a long draught of his beer.  He plunked down the half-empty glass and gestured to Hutch to refill it while he grabbed another handful of pretzels.

“I never told you, ‘cos I didn’t see the point.”

“You didn’t see the point!  Starsky you’ve managed to be my partner for how long now? Ten years near enough.  You’ve been in VA twice since I knew you and I never heard that you were an Officer.”

“I asked them not to tell anyone.”

“Why?

“Like I said.  I didn’t think it mattered.”

“And does it matter now?”

“Dunno.  It depends.  The colonel today, he’s from JAG.  If they are involved then they think that there’s an army officer involved.  What I don’t get is why we got landed with this one.  The guy was killed in Long Beach – the cops there are just as good as we are.”

“And you said the victim looked familiar.”

“One thing at a time.  You want to know how I got to be Lieutenant or what?”

“OK.”

“I got promoted in the field ‘cos when all the other guys in the platoon went dopey ‘cos the officers and NCOs were either dead or out of action– I got us back to camp. OK? Satisfied?”

_Not really, but it’s all I’m going to get._

“Sure.”

 

“Next question was how come the brass from JAG seemed to know me?  Dunno is the answer; I guess he read our files.”

“You’re a lousy liar.”

“OK…he wasn’t in JAG then; he was straight out of law school and paying off his ROTC-funded studies.  He was Captain of the airborne division I didn’t go to ‘Nam with.”

“Come again.”

“They trained me as a sharp-shooter for airborne; but there was a fuck-up when we were shipped out and I ended up in the infantry.  He must have thought I did it on purpose…especially when I refused a transfer back.  I guess he felt mad at me for getting all that training and not being grateful.”

 

“I’ve got a third question.”

“Mmmm?”

“What’s JAG?”

Starsky sighed and took the tone he had used way back when he was explaining what he considered to be the facts of real life to Hutch when they were out on the beat for the first time.  “Judge Advocate General’s Corps; the Army’s own legal department.  If that guy is on this case they must think a soldier is involved.”

“The victims were all veterans.”

“That’s not what they care about – they think that the killer is still in active service.”

Starsky drained his glass and went over to the bar to refill the pitcher.  When he returned Hutch leaned forward and said “You thought you recognized our victim.”

“I didn’t think I do – I _know_ I do; but I can’t remember his name right now.  I had a bad time, remember; there are still a couple of things I only know because someone told me they happened.”

 _And I bet you’ll never tell me what they are, will you buddy?_  Hutch drank his beer and watched his partner’s face carefully.  Starsky’s usually expressive eyes were half-closed and his face blank; Hutch knew the signs – something was bothering Starsky and he couldn’t or wouldn’t share it.

“We’d better go home before we have to arrest each other for DUI.” 

Starsky grinned and finished his beer.  “I’ll take the risk.”

 

 

 

Hutch watched Starsky get into the Torino and drive away.  He sensed that there was something troubling Starsky more than he was willing to say and he wished he could break through to him. After all these years, although Starsky could read him like an open book, Hutch knew that there were lines that _he_ may never be allowed to cross.

He ran a hand over his face and got into his car and drove home.

 

************************************

 

There were times when Starsky wondered if the past would ever just fuck off and leave him alone.  His youth had been haunted by his father’s murder and then his time in the Army had piled more on top.  He and Hutch had been chasing a guy a couple of days ago and Starsky had hopped to a painful halt as Hutch went running on.  He couldn’t always blame it on cramp.  Hutch had brought back the two-bit purse thief and he was puffing and panting despite his health routines that drove Starsky nuts. The two of them had leaned on each other for support and laughed that maybe they were getting too old for this game.  Starsky was still giving thanks that he could play in the first place.  He thought he’d got it all behind him. _And now this_.

 

He started to undress; he threw his underclothes and T-shirt in the laundry box and hung up his jeans and shirt. He did what he had to do in the bathroom and slipped between cool cotton sheets. The window was open and a gentle breeze cooled the warm night air.  Starsky fell asleep…and dreamed the usual nightmares

 

He woke up with a start.  He knew where he’d seen victim number three before.

He looked at his clock; three a.m.  Hutch would only panic if he called him now.  He turned over and this time he slept peacefully until his alarm woke him at six-thirty.

He hauled himself out of bed and slipped on a pair of cut-offs and a T-shirt; he fished under the bed for his running shoes and set out to clear his mind.

 

After a shower and strong coffee he set off for work.  He spotted Hutch’s car steaming on a corner two blocks from the precinct and looked around for his buddy.  He spotted him about a hundred yards further along and slid alongside the curb; he leaned over and rolled down the window and smiled sweetly. “Going my way sweetheart?”  Hutch grinned climbed into the passenger seat gratefully.

“Roll up the window and keep the cold air in.”

“You don’t know how good this feels.”

“Oh yes I do.  You didn’t grow up in the sweltering inner city…and as for the jungle after the rains have finished.  Believe me even the inside of your car on a day like this can’t compare.”

“Makes me hot just thinking about it.”

Starsky found a spot at back of the building and they took the stairs up from the garage.

Hutch pulled the mug books and started to turn the pages slowly.  Starsky reached for his phone and waited while his call connected.

“Colonel Jameson, please… Yes it is important… Who am _I_ speaking to?  OK I’ll go first.  My name is Starsky – you want my Army rank or my Police rank?” He grinned at Hutch as he listened to the reply.  “Thank you _corporal._   If you would tell the colonel that it is important.”

He waited.

 

 “Starsky, to what do I owe this honor.”

“I need to see you – but not at the JAG offices.”

“I take it this is about the case in hand.”

“Of course.  I don’t want to re-enlist; not even to work for your department.”

“The coffee shop at the Westin; shall we say in about an hour.”

Starsky checked his watch; “that’s fine with me.”

Hutch listened with interest.  “Do you want company?”

Starsky hesitated.  “No.  Not this time, OK?”

 

***********************************

 

 

“I remembered where I saw the third victim.”

Jameson looked at him carefully.  “I think I can guess; but tell me.”

“He was in a patrol…you’ve read my file?”

“I’ve read your file. You were decorated for saving civilian women and children from an enemy raid.  How does this tie in?”

“Depends on how you define ‘enemy.’”

Jameson took a bite out of his Danish and waited.

“Calley wasn’t the only one, you know that don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“The ‘enemy’ attacking the village, it was a patrol out of control.  My men and I were forced to go with them – but we didn’t join in.  The doc in Hawaii had a good idea about it – he knew what kind of weapon caused my injuries. “

“Why have you never come forward with this information?  Your word would never have been doubted.”

“I was going to.  After I’d been home a while I saw something about a follow up to Calley’s Court Martial…and I wanted to testify.  I even put on my uniform and came to JAG…but when I saw the name of the guy I’d be speaking to, I left.”

“What was the name?”

“I prefer not to tell you until I’ve caught our killer – I may need to bait the trap.”

Jameson digested this last remark. “All the same I’d like a deposition of what you saw…we can fill in the names later if you want.”

“I’ll come by some time.”

“Nothing like the present.”  Jameson opened a briefcase and pulled out a yellow legal pad.  Starsky sighed and ordered another coffee.  Then he told Jameson the long ugly story of how he’d been shot in the leg by a member of the US Army.

“…the three victims; I’m pretty sure that they were ready to tell someone the same story.  I recognized the last guy…the last time I saw him he was running away.”

 

 

 

 

*************************************************

 

 

Starsky returned to the office and settled on the back of his chair.  Hutch looked up and shoved a mug-book towards him.  “Your turn.”

“I don’t need it.  His name was Franks; poor slob his parents had no sense of humor – Frank Franks!  He was in ‘Nam.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m in for another chapter from your past?”

Starsky stuck his tongue out at him.

“I wonder if you really want to hear it.”

“Try me.”

“Not now; OK.  Let’s see if we can find out more about the killing.”

 

They were sitting in the Long Beach Homicide Division office reading the report on the murder.

Hutch was reading the autopsy report and Starsky was going through the crime-scene report.  He put down the page he was holding and reached instinctively for the ‘phone before putting the receiver back in place. “Sorry, I forgot I wasn’t on the home team here.”

The Captain behind the desk smiled.  “What did you want to know?”  He had resented that these two had been brought in to investigate a murder on his patch.  Starsky and Hutch had a reputation for being the best – and he saw it as an insult to his own men.

“I was wondering if you had any contact with the Chicago and Miami police over these killings.”

“Killings?” The information that this was not an isolated murder made him rethink his annoyance about their presence in his office.

“Great, they didn’t tell you.”  Starsky’s anger was barely concealed; Hutch put down the page he was reading and listened carefully to the dangerous tone of his partner’s voice.

 

“Franks wasn’t the first. There have been two others, Cliff Spencer – he died in Miami – and Joe Canning, they found him in Chicago; same M.O.  They were all veterans too.  And I need to see the crime scene reports to be sure of something.  Come on Hutch, let’s go back to our office and get Dobey to ask for the files.”

 

They were sitting eating hotdogs and staring at the Long Beach docks.  The scene was dominated by the impressive silhouette of the Queen Mary but neither of them was really taking any notice of the sights and sounds around them.

 

Starsky swallowed a mouthful of bread, sausage, mustard and onions. “If I’m right, I need to get another file but I don’t want to go through Jameson.”

Hutch chewed silently – he had already decided to let Starsky lead in this one; since his partner seemed to know more about it than he did.

“I’ll drop you off at Metro so you can get Dobey onto requesting those files.  I have to go see someone.  I’ll call you later, OK?”

“Yes and no.”

“Huh?”

“It’s OK with me if my car has been fixed – otherwise I’ll have to hitch a ride home.”

Starsky chuckled.  “I’ll come and make sure you don’t have to sleep on the desk.”

He started up the engine and the Torino growled to life, they rolled up the windows and Starsky let her run a few seconds then flipped the switch and cool air flowed into the car.

Starsky dropped Hutch at work and drove home.

 

“I need a house call.”

“You sound pretty healthy to me Dave, dear.”

He laughed. “I need your help.”

“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

 

Jodie Laurence hadn’t changed much; a little older maybe, and her waist had thickened slightly after having two children; but to Dave’s eyes she was still as beautiful as the day she’d soothed him and talked him into accepting yet another pain-killing shot.  They’d been lovers and now they were friends – and she was always ready to come over when a migraine hit.  He smiled and kissed her lightly on the cheek; she returned the compliment.

“OK, if you don’t have a headache…”

“Maybe I do; not a physical one though.”

She sat down and accepted the glass of wine that he was holding out to her.

“You’re still in the Reserve too, right?”

“You know the rules as well as I do, David.”

“The Army tried to pull my strings; I’m working as a cop, but I guess Hutch and I are also working for JAG.”

“And…?”

“And I need you to see if you can’t get a medical record from VA for me.”

“I take it this is not official.”

He sipped his wine and looked at her with the same dark brooding gaze that had melted the doctor-patient relationship in Hawaii.

“You are very hard to resist.” She smiled.

“So I hear.”

She waited a beat; hoping that the feelings that she had weren’t showing.  Dave was still one of the sexiest men she had ever met – and even with his half-crippled leg he had proven to be a fantastic lover.  She made no effort to resist those deep blue eyes.

“What, or should I say who, do you want?”

“Sergeant Billy Thorn.  He was in Hawaii when I was; and he must have been sent to one of the VA rehabs when he got back.  If it’s any help they took one of his legs off.”

She noted that he didn’t sound too sorry for Thorn despite his own near-miss with amputation.

“I’ll see what I can do – but if he didn’t come to VA here it won’t be easy.”

“Try contacting Miami, he might have wound up there.”

“I’ll let you know.”  She kissed him again and left before her instincts got the better of her.

Starsky washed up the glasses and replaced them in the cupboard; he re-corked the remains of the bottle and put it in the fridge and then set out to collect Hutch.

 

************************************

 

They drove to the garage that had towed Hutch’s car away.  It hadn’t been fixed and the owner gave the impression that he wasn’t thinking of giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to a wreck like that.  Starsky stayed in the cool of the Torino while Hutch argued and sweated.  Hutch returned to the car.

“He says the car isn’t even worth the cost of towing it back here!”

Starsky smiled and said nothing.  How many times had they been over this before? In all the years he’d had it the Torino had only let them down twice: one year when a thermostat went haywire and it broke down a couple of times at precisely the same spot on the way to work; and once when someone had cut the brake-lines. It had been shot at and even blown up, but every time Merle had restored it to its full beauty and added another modification to the motor.  The Torino bore no more resemblance to the other Fords that bore the badge than a Formula One racing car bore to a Beetle.

On the other hand Hutch’s succession of wrecks were always crapping out on him.  Starsky had long ago given up explaining to his partner that for all the money he’d thrown away on his idea of no-nonsense transport he, Starsky, could have bought and maintained the Torino twice over (probably including the repairs the department footed when the car was damaged in the course of duty) and still have money in his savings account.

“I’ll take you to see Al…and this time let _him_ sell you a car; instead of choosing the biggest heap in his lot.”

 

 

*********************************************

 

The next morning Dobey had the files from Chicago and from Miami.  Starsky studied them carefully.

“Got it!”

Hutch and Dobey waited for him to enlighten them.

He started with the Miami report.  “The body was found on a beach; only one set of footprints going away from it.  Evidence that the murderer walked with a limp.”

The Chicago report was even more interesting.  This time the corpse was found in a deserted workshop.  “The killer had stepped in some kind of grease and the crime scene reported that his left footprint suggested that the sole of the shoe was not as worn as the right.”

Starsky reached for the Long Beach report.  “The body was found by the docks…no footprints…  I wonder…” 

“What?”  Hutch asked before Dobey got the chance.

“First off I wonder who did the crime scene investigation.  Maybe they missed something.”

Dobey reached for his ‘phone.  “It’s not too late to send Mike and his team down there.  The place is still sealed off as a crime scene.”

“Ask them to look carefully at the ground around where the body was found.”

 

Two hours later Mike came into the Squad Room and walked over to where the two detectives were filling in their expenses claims and time-sheets for the past month.

“Starsky, what did you expect us to find?”

“I’ll tell you if when you’ve told me.”

“The guy limps.”

“You get the prize!”

Hutch looked up from his calculations.  “How can you tell, Mike?”

“We scraped around the floor and found traces of rubber from the sole of a sneaker; he must drag a foot.”

Starsky grinned.  “Well that puts me in the clear!”  They all laughed.

 

 

**********************************

 

Hutch was over at Starsky’s apartment and watching his friend make his favorite spaghetti sauce.  The ‘phone rang and Starsky moved the pan to the side of the burner to stop it from boiling.

“Great…why don’t you come and join me and Hutch for supper; I’m making spaghetti and there’s enough for three…see you soon.”

He called over to Hutch who was setting the stuff on the table – “make that three places, waiter.”

 

Hutch answered the door and greeted Dr. Laurence with a friendly if surprised smile.

“Hi, remember me?”

“How could I forget a doctor who does house calls?”

Starsky called from the bedroom. “Pour Jodie a glass of wine and remember this,” he emerged in a fresh t-shirt and jeans having managed to splatter himself with sauce while he was cooking. “Her husband was a Marine!”

Hutch shrugged and fetched a glass and the bottle.

“Dinner is nearly ready – I just put the spaghetti in.”

Hutch and Jodie settled on the sofa and Starsky stayed by the stove stirring the pot until the spaghetti came back to the boil.

“I guess you found something for me.”

“Yes.  It wasn’t easy – I said I was doing a follow-up project on men who had lost limbs.”

She reached down to her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper.  Starsky came over and read it.

“It fits.”  He swore and ran to deal with the pot that was doing a fairly good volcano act.  “I think we have the ID of our killer Hutch; now all we need to do is find him.”

He passed the page to his partner and went to drain the pasta.

 

Over dinner they talked about everything and nothing.  Hutch had hoped to find out more about Starsky’s friendship with ‘Jodie’; but he was skillfully stonewalled every time he thought he’d asked the right question.  After she’d gone he tried once more.

“Jodie?  Just how well _did_ you know Doctor Laurence in Hawaii?”

Starsky’s reply was mute and obscene.

 

***********************************************

 

There is a correlation of architecture and power.  The higher the position a person holds in the company the further up the building the office and the better the view.

The conference was being held in the corner office with a view out over the ocean high up on the twenty-seventh floor.  The President of the law firm had his duplex penthouse on the twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth floor.  It was accessed by a private elevator that stopped in the corner office and in the apartment – and, of course in the underground closed, private garage.

He was in conference when the private line rang twice, stopped, and rang again.

“Excuse me gentlemen.”

The two other men in the room stood and left discreetly and waited in the outer sitting room until such time that they would be invited back.

 

“Yes.” It was an order rather than a question or an acknowledgement.

The voice on the other end of the phone was brusque.

“Things you need to know.  Someone pulled Thorn’s medical records. The cops are on to the link between Spencer, Canning and Franks.”

“Is that all?”

“No.  Does the name Starsky ring a bell?”

“Yes.”

“He’s one of the cops on the case – and from what I’ve found out he’s a fucking efficient cop.”

“Thank you, I’ll deal with it.”  The connection died.

_Starsky…he saw too much._

 

He walked slowly over to the door.  “Gentlemen, excuse me, shall we continue?”

 

*********************************************

 

“His name is Billy Thorn and he tried to kill me.”

Dobey and Hutch said nothing.  Starsky was pacing the room like a caged bear.

Jameson watched him carefully.

“What do you mean, he tried to kill you?” Hutch asked. He was beginning to find this even more difficult to follow; Starsky let slip bits of information – and nothing he said was enough for Hutch to get a grip on the story.

 

“I guess it’s time I you told the whole story too.” Starsky glanced at Jameson; “like I told you the Colonel here My Lai wasn’t the only incident.  I got caught up in one of them.”  He smiled at Hutch. “Don’t panic Blondie – I didn’t join in.  That’s just it, _my_ group didn’t join in; the others killed most of them.  I was well-hidden – sharp-shooter, remember Hutch?  They didn’t see me until I broke cover to help a woman and her kids to escape.  Thorn was the Sergeant of the other group.  He followed his Lieutenant’s orders with the kind of enthusiasm that would have put him in command in the SS.  He came after me…I don’t remember much else.  I felt the bullet hit my leg and I fell into some kind of pit.  I guess he thought I was dead. When I was in the hospital in Hawaii he turned up; he’d lost a leg.  He recognized me, I’m sure he did. Then he disappeared; word was the MPs took him away.

I tried to forget about it – but a year or so after I got back I went to JAG to tell my tale – only I didn’t because the guy who was going to take my deposition was the Lieutenant who led the raid.”

He sat in the arm of Hutch’s chair.

“So there you are Blondie; now you know the whole story.”

“Do I?”

“That’s for me…”

“…to know and for me to find out.” Hutch finished the phrase for him.

Jameson cleared his throat.

“Lieutenant, I mean Sergeant… _Detective_ Starsky told me the details yesterday.  He hasn’t given me the name of that officer – as I understand it he doesn’t want the man to know that he is being investigated.”

Hutch raised a questioning eyebrow and Starsky nodded imperceptibly.  Dobey watched the silent conversation.

Jameson took his leave and Dobey opened his mouth to ask Starsky something – but thought better of it.  “You two had better get out there and find Thorn.”

 

***********************************************

 

 

“Where are we going?”

“Thorn’s last known address...”

 

Starsky pulled the Torino over to the curb and the two of them got out and ran up the steps into the seedy hotel run by Bernie Silver.

“Hi Bernie; what can you tell me about Billy Thorn?” Starsky had come round behind the counter and was expertly disconnecting the switchboard as he spoke.  Hutch grabbed Bernie’s collar and pulled across the counter.”

“Starsky asked you a question, Bernie.  He and Mr. Thorn are old acquaintances…and Starsky likes to look up old friends when they are in town – don’t you Starsk?”

Starsky gave Bernie the full ‘Starsky special’ – a wide toothy grin – and a deadpan face.

“I also like to surprise them Bernie; which is why I have disconnected the switchboard until our little party is over.  You know the rules, Bernie – which room?”

“I’m sorry Starsky; I’ve never heard of any guy called Thorn.”

Hutch ran a finger down the register and grabbed Bernie by the collar again.

“Then how come he’s registered in room fifty three?”

Starsky was already halfway up the first flight of stairs – Hutch followed.

They checked their guns and took up their habitual positions either side of the door.  Starsky nodded to Hutch and knocked with the barrel of his pistol. He pulled back and waited; gun held high in front of his face – his fingers splayed from the butt except for the finger that was ready on the trigger.

No reply.  He knocked again. “Thorn?”

He tried the handle – the door was locked. He nodded again to Hutch and opened the door with an expert kick.  Hutch went in first and Starsky came in behind him, crouched low ready to cover his partner.  Thorn wasn’t there.

“Shit’n’fuck.”  Starsky kicked a chair and then hopped around the room holding his sore toe.

On the way out, Starsky re-connected the switchboard.  “When he comes back, Bernie, I want to know.  And if I find out that you have warned him…”

Bernie wiped his glasses on his shirt. “Sure Starsky – if Mr. Thorn comes back I’ll let you know.”

“Not if, Bernie,” Hutch said, “but when…his stuff is still in the closet.”

 

“Now what?”

“Well I was thinking if a cool beer – what about you?”

Starsky drove them to The Pits.

Thorn didn’t return to the hotel.  Bernie would later report to Hutch that the bill was paid by a guy in an expensive suit who also took Thorn’s stuff away.  But that was later, when Hutch was working alone.

 

*************************************

 

The call came when Starsky was driving in to work.  A two-eleven was in progress a block from where he was.  He radioed in that he was on his way. By the time Hutch got to the scene there was no-one there apart from the store clerk who still didn’t know why someone had reported an armed robbery.

 

********************************

 

Starsky parked and looked around. He couldn’t see any sign of armed robbers. He got out of the car carefully and was closing the door when he felt the barrel of a gun in the small of his back.

“If I shoot you now – you’ll be crippled for life – if you live.”

Starsky raised his hands slowly.

“Thorn?”

“Yea.  Now if I remember right – you are a leftie, so you’d better take the gun out with the right hand.” Starsky obeyed, holding the gun balanced on his ring finger by the trigger guard he raised it above his head.

“Throw it onto the back seat then get in.”

He did as he was told.  Thorn kept him covered as he walked around the front of the car

to take his place in the passenger seat.

“Drive, I’ll give you the directions.”

Starsky started the engine and drove away.

Thorn guided him to a deserted house on a block that was scheduled for demolition. “Put the car in the garage.”

Starsky drove into the garage and Thorn pulled the key out of the ignition.  “Out you get.”  Starsky considered reaching for his gun but Thorn pushed him out of the car and he fell onto the concrete floor.  He swore.

They went into the house and Thorn pushed Starsky down the cellar steps.  Starsky noted that Thorn descended the stairs less confidently than he did. “I guess I got off the better, huh, I mean I still have both my legs.”

“Shut up!”

He used Starsky’s cuffs to attach his hands to a pipe that ran across the ceiling forcing him to stand on tiptoe.  “See you later.”

 

*****************************************

 

Hutch was on his way to work in a car that he’d managed to talk the precinct transportation officer to lend him.  It was usually used for stakeouts…a brown four-door Torino – with the standard engine! But at least he had wheels and a radio.  He heard the call too – and he heard Starsky’s message.  He called in that he was on his way and Starsky’s voice came back quick as a flash “See you there buddy.”

 

When he arrived there was no sign of the Torino.  There was no sign of any anyone else, either.  He got out of the car cautiously and made his way over to the grocery store; constantly checking the area for a possible ambush.

The kid behind the counter greeted him with a friendly smile.  Hutch smiled back and went up to the counter.  He showed his badge discreetly, still waiting for the attack.

“What can I do for you sir?” The kid asked.

Hutch looked at him carefully. _He acts like nothing happened._

“I’m here to investigate a report of an armed robbery.”

They kid gave him a bemused look. “Nothing happened here, sir.  I only opened a half hour ago and I haven’t had any trouble.  Are you sure you got the right address?”

Hutch ran a hand over his face – something was wrong here.

“My partner answered the call too.   He was only a block away.”  He hesitated before asking the question he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to.  “Maybe you saw him; he drives a red Torino with a white stripe.”

The kid grinned.  “That was a cop’s car?!”  Hutch sighed and nodded.  What the hell was happening here?  Starsky had been here but where was he now?

“Did he come in?”

“No sir.  I heard the car arrive and then when I looked up I saw it driving away again.”

Hutch thanked him and sprinted back to the car.

_He must have seen that there was nothing going on and gone straight to work_

 

He parked outside the precinct building and looked around for the Torino – it was nowhere to be seen. He figured that maybe Starsky had some errand to attend to and ran up into the building and the blessed cool air-conditioned air.

He knocked on Dobey’s door and went in without waiting for an answer; he ignored the Captain’s protestations and sat down heavily.

“Starsky’s disappeared.”

“He’s late; I know that’s unusual but…”

“No Captain; he’s disappeared.  The call for the 2-11 was a hoax.  Starsky said he was on his way but when I got there he was gone; the clerk told me that there hadn’t been a robbery. He thought he saw the Torino arrive and then drive away.”

“Sit down Hutch and calm down.  Let’s go over this again.”

“There was a 2-11 called in when I was on my way in this morning.  The location was near Starsky’s route here and I heard him call that he was on is way.  I thought I’d go join him.  But when I got there – nothing, Captain.  No 2-11, no Starsky, nothing!  No-one saw him, he’s disappeared.”

“Get out on the streets and see what you can find out – I’ll put out an APB on his car.  I don’t like the sound of this, Hutch.  That story he told us worried me – if this man Thorn thinks that Starsky can testify against him…”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking Captain?”

“I’ll call Jameson. Now get out of here and find Starsky!”

 

****************************************

It was cold and dark in the cellar and one of Starsky’s recurrent nightmares was playing out although he was wide awake.  He was trapped in a dark room and he couldn’t get out.

His shoulders ached and he was careful how he adjusted his weight to avoid dislocating one or both or them. He was hungry and thirsty and he needed to pee. 

He could hear footsteps above him and he knew that Billy had company.  Billy’s uneven tread was accompanied by the steady pace of a man with two legs of his own.  He could hear voices too – but not enough to make out what they were saying.  The even tread crossed the floor above him and he heard a door close; a couple of seconds later he heard an expensive engine purr into life and drive away.

He waited and listened.

Billy was coming back down the steps.

“OK Blue eyes, time for a little chow.  I thought of bringing you a Chinese takeaway but then I thought maybe you feel the same was that I do about rice! “

He was undoing the ‘cuffs as he spoke. “Don’t try anything now; I have my gun real handy.”  Starsky moved his stiff shoulders.  “I need to pee.”

“There’s a bucket over there.”  Starsky went over to the bucket; as he started to unzip himself he felt the gun in the small of his back. “Just in case you get any ideas.”  He pissed and turned round slowly.

“Now what?  Are you going to add killing a cop to the list?”

“Later…when we are ready. Now shut up and eat.” Thorn handed him a Styrofoam carton with a lukewarm burger in it. Starsky ate and said nothing.  Thorn handed him a glass of water and waited while he drank it.  Then he motioned with the gun and pushed his captive over to a cot by the wall.  He pushed Starsky roughly so that he fell at an awkward angle onto the cot and then dragged his arms up to cuff them to an overhead pipe.  The pain was excruciating and Starsky felt the right shoulder pop out of its socket.  He groaned.

“See you later sucker.” Billy laughed.

“Yeah.”

 

_Shit! Now what am I gonna do?  Bloody shoulder’s out again – not much chance of fighting him when he releases me the next time._

 

He allowed himself to drift with the pain in his shoulder.

 

***********************************************

 

Hutch was in The Pits consulting Huggy about anyone who might have seen or heard something about Starsky.  He’d been missing two days now and so far all Hutch had to go on was that the Torino was last seen driving away from the grocery store.

Huggy was talking on the ‘phone.  He hung up and came back to Hutch.

“I’ve got something.  You remember little Mat the Cat?  He thinks he saw the Torino going out towards the Ventura Freeway a couple of days ago.”

Hutch sighed.  “We were both in it, Huggy.”

Huggy lit a cigarette and sighed the smoke out through his mouth and nostrils.

“Somebody must have seen it  I mean it’s not exactly inconspicuous is it?”

“Keep asking around Huggy.”  Hutch walked away and Huggy noted the heavy dejected way he climbed the stairs.  Whenever one of the partners was missing the other became dejected and determined at the same time.  Huggy envied them their almost paranormal powers of communication – when they were able to function.

 

Hutch was driving along scanning every side alley and disused lot he passed, hoping against hope to see the familiar candy-apple red car.  He called in to Dobey.

“Do you have anything, Captain?”

“Come on in Hutch; Jameson’s here and he wants to see you.”

Hutch checked his mirrors and heaved the heavy car around in a one-hundred-eighty degree turn.  _I never realized that even the steering had been pimped up on that car of his!_

Jameson and Dobey were waiting for him.  Hutch sat down and stared at the ceiling for a second trying to gather his patience together.  He was sure that Jameson knew something that he was keeping to himself.

“Starsky was right about two things.  The killer is Billy Thorn and there was a definite link between the three victims.”

“Yes,” Hutch said softly trying to control his rising anger, “they were all Vets.”

“More than that; they were all in the same unit as Thorn.”

“Which means?”

“Which means that, taking into account the testimony Starsky gave me, these three might not have been as enthusiastic as the rest of the unit.

“You think they were killed to stop them testifying?”

“Yes.”

“Against Thorn?”

“So far we can’t be sure; they all served together and the time-scale fits.”

Hutch looked steadily at the Colonel sitting next to him.  For the first time he realized where Starsky’s dead straight posture came from – this guy was sitting to attention!

“Is there something else?”

“Yes.  Starsky confided in me that he knew the name of the leader of that raid – but he didn’t want to give it to me because the officer then joined my services – that is JAG – after he finished his rotation.  I’m still checking who it might have been.  Many of the men who came to JAG after the war went into the private sector as soon as they’d paid off their studies.”

“But you must have an idea.” Hutch didn’t release him from his steady cool blue-eyed gaze.  It didn’t have the force that Starsky could bring to bear – but it was chilling enough for most men.

“Yes.  I have a lead.  His name is Traxler.”

Dobey and Hutch looked at one another and said nothing.

 

“Traxler?  Where have I heard that before?” Hutch broke the silence.

“One of the biggest law firms in the State. The firm was started by old man Traxler way back at the beginning of the century and all the sons have taken over the reins ever since.  Our man is the fourth generation and he has his eyes on the State Senate – just like his dad and his grandfather before him.”

Hutch slumped in the chair. “In other words he’s not going to be easy to catch.”  He was thinking of Gunther as he spoke; another over-powerful super-rich bastard who had tried to kill his partner.

“I guess the quicker I find Thorn, the more we’ll have against Traxler – assuming that Traxler is behind this.”

Jameson glanced at Dobey.  “There’s no doubt.  My department has been investigating plenty of allegations about atrocities during the war.  My Lai is unlikely to have been an isolated incident.  We know about the official covert activities – but this was not one of them.”

“Official covert activities?” Hutch’s eye widened. “Don’t tell me – I don’t think I want to know right now!”

 

 

**********************************************

 

Traxler looked directly into the camera’s lens.  The backdrop was the view from his office.

“Unlike my opponent who spent four years studying…” he paused and assumed a puzzled expression, “…applied semiotics in order to achieve deferment; I was _proud_ to give my country two years of my youth in active duty.  I am not ashamed of having served my country and now I hope to dedicate the same energy to the affairs of this great state of California.”  He smiled and paused.  “My platform is simple.  Our country needs to be led back to its values and this state of California in particular.  My heart cries out to those decent folks hoping to bring up their children in a moral code that is constantly being undermined by rock music and drugs.

I stand before you as a candidate for the state Senate with my record as a soldier and as a lawyer as proof of my determination to keep America strong.”

 

Hutch switched off the TV set and shook his head.  “Not if I can help it you won’t!”

 

*************************************************

 

Thorn checked on his captive now and then.  He allowed Starsky to relieve himself using the bucket – but left it there to stink in the fetid atmosphere of the hot dark cellar. He also brought food – although even Starsky was beginning to tire of the same soggy burgers. 

Starsky’s arms and shoulder were numb.

“You are going to wish you’d never been there.”

“I have always wished I’d never been there – haven’t you?”

Thorn’s reply was a savage kick with his artificial foot. Starsky groaned as the weight of the metal foot hit his groin. He fought not to throw up the burger.

His tormentor left him in the dark again.

 

***********************************************

 

“Hutch, it’s Huggy.  I have a lead.”

“I’ll be right over.”

Hutch went down to the brown Torino and slid into the driver’s seat.  He drove off sedately, in this thing that was all he could do, and set off for The Pits.

Huggy was waiting for him upstairs.

“Thorn’s been seen in Inglewood; a friend of a friend saw him buying stuff at a burger place.”

“Thanks Hug.”

“Just go find Curly before that nut hurts him.”

 

Hutch went straight back to see Dobey.

“Thorn’s been spotted in Inglewood.  I’m going to need an APB on him – but tell them not do anything; just follow him and see where he’s holed up.  It’s our only hope of finding Starsky alive.”

Dobey put out the call and Hutch sat fidgeting in his chair.

“Go home.  You can’t do anything until someone spots him.”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“What?” Dobey sounded wary – he knew his men to well not to expect a hot-headed reaction if one was looking for the other.”

“I could do to Traxler what I did to Gunther?”

“No!  He’s too dangerous.  Wait until we’ve found Starsky.”

Hutch said nothing.  Dobey looked at him carefully.  “Hutch, I know how much you care about Starsky – and don’t you think I’ve had him in this office in the same state when you have been missing? Relax.”

He picked up the ‘phone.

“It’s me dear; can you stretch supper to five?... You are a wonderful woman.”

He grinned at Hutch.  “Come on, I’m taking you home with me. You need some good home-cooking young man.”

 

*******************************************

 

 

The call came in the next evening.  A patrol had followed Thorn back to a house scheduled for demolition.  Dobey tried to reach Hutch at home and got no answer; so he called The Pits.

“Huggy, this is Dobey.  Do you know where Hutch is?”

“Right here, drowning his loneliness.”

“Serve him some coffee and then give him this address.  Thorn was seen going into the house.”

Huggy wasn’t too happy about Hutch driving even after two cups of coffee so he slipped slender skilled fingers into his pocket and took out the keys. “Where are you parked?”  Hutch gave no resistance and Huggy followed him up to the street.  When he saw the brown Torino Huggy suppressed a chuckle and pushed Hutch into the passenger seat before taking the wheel.  He pulled into a drive-in burger joint and ordered Hutch one more coffee for the road before setting off for Inglewood.

 

*********************************************

 

Satisfied with his performance in front of the camera Traxler made a couple of calls before leaving the office.  He took the elevator down to his private garage and slid his big black BMW out onto the street.  He set off for his destination with a smile.  He was really going to enjoy dealing with Starsky.

 

He pulled up in front of the tatty old house and looked around before carefully locking the car and going up to the half-collapsed porch.  He opened the door and stepped in.

“Thorn?”

“I’m here.” Thorn appeared from a room at the back.  Traxler could smell the musky scent of dope in his clothes.  “Keep a clear head Billy and most importantly, a steady hand.”

Thorn smiled.  “No worries about that.”

“I’m going to enjoy hurting the little shit.  No, that’s not true; I’m going to enjoy watching _you_ hurt him.”  Traxler laughed.

Thorn grinned.  “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Where is he?”

“Downstairs.  He must be feeling pretty lousy by now.  I let him use the bucket now and then and if he’s a very good boy I feed him. I think maybe he’s hurt his arm – when I let him loose it hangs kind of weird.”  Thorn’s voice faded slightly. “I really thought I’d killed him back there, you know.   I mean I must have put a couple of bullets in him and he fell into that trap the Congs left…I didn’t bother to go see. I should have finished him off.”

Traxler said nothing.  Starsky was the last living witness who could give him trouble.  Canning, Spencer and Franks were dead…but he had other plans for Starsky.

“We’re not going to kill him, Billy.  We’re going to make him spend the rest of his life wishing we had.”

There was little furniture in the room – only a tatty bar and a barstool. Traxler settled in the stool and lit a cigar.

“Go and get him Billy.”

Billy limped out of the room and Traxler listened to his footsteps as they faded down the cellar stairs.

 

Huggy stopped about a hundred yards from the house. “Wow, look at that short – that ain’t no local resident!”  Hutch’s head had cleared, what with the coffee and Huggy driving with all the windows open to create an air current to keep him awake.

“I need a leak.” He pushed the heavy door open and went around to the back of the car.

“Ok Hug.” He said when he returned.  “You stay here and be ready to call for help.”

“No way, man.  Starsky’s my friend too and you might need back-up here.”

Hutch turned and focused on the big black car parked outside the house. He creased his eyes to see the license plate. ‘TRAX 1’.

“Traxler!  He’s here Huggy.  I guess that means this is where they’ve got Starsky.  Come on.”

They ran across to the neighboring house and used what was left of its fence as cover.  Hutch explained the tactic and then told Huggy to go around back while he ran up slipped up to the front door.  He waited to be sure that Huggy was in place and peered through the dirty window.  What he saw made his blood freeze in his veins.  He opened the door as quietly as he could and slipped in.  He saw Huggy arrive inside the kitchen and signaled him to stay put. 

Starsky was on his knees. Thorn and Traxler had their backs to the door, but Starsky was in front of them and Hutch hoped that his partner had seen him arrive.

 

Traxler was holding a lighted cigar. Thorn had his gun trained on Starsky who knelt, hands cuffed behind his back, between them.

“You saw too much Starsky.  You, and Canning, and Franks, and Spencer; you all saw too much.” Starsky was silent.  He’d seen a movement in the hallway and he prayed that it was Hutch out there.

“Now ,Billy here stopped the others before they could damage my future political career.  But you are more dangerous. You are a cop.  And you saw everything.  I hear that you nearly told the JAG all about it when you came home – why didn’t you?”

“You know why?  You were the officer taking the depositions – how many did you destroy?”

“That is irrelevant now.  The only thing left to destroy is you.  When I’ve finished you will be a wreck – and who is going to take evidence from a cop that has lost his mind? As I said, Starsky you saw too much.  So I think it would be best to make sure that you never see anything again.”

_Oh god no.  Not my eyes, please god not my eyes.  I could hold down a desk job if he crippled me, but not my eyes._

 

“Billy, do you have Starsky’s gun?”

Billy grinned and produced the Beretta from his pocket and discarded is own.

“Hope you’re a leftie Billy” Starsky managed to sound braver than he felt.  The panic was welling up inside him.  “That gun’s weighted for me – a lefty; if you don’t hold it right you’ll miss.”

 

Traxler drew on the cigar and looked at the glowing tip.

_Aw shit!  Come on Blondie; it’s now or never.  Please don’t let him do this to me._

_Hutch…come on…please….._

 

Hutch froze. If he fired now, Thorn would kill Starsky. He tried to work out what to do.  He pulled back and a floorboard creaked. Thorn handed Traxler the other gun and came out into the hallway; he put the barrel of Starsky’s gun against Hutch’s temple and said “Come and join the fun Blondie.” Hutch dropped his gun, kicked it away and lifted his hands.  Thorn led him onto the room. “Give me your cuffs.”  Starsky looked up at Hutch who saw the terror in his friend’s eyes.  Thorn attached Hutch’s hands behind his back and pushed him away.

“Take a good look at him Starsky – it’s the last time you will.” Traxler said and he brought the cigar to within a hair’s breadth of Starsky’s left eye.  Starsky could feel his eyelashes singe.

“Go ahead; get it over with.”

“Not yet.  I have a better idea.”  Traxler sucked on the cigar again.

“Billy here has a very steady hand.

_Oh god Hutch, I can’t bear this…think of something for god’s sake._

 

Hutch stared helplessly as Billy came to stand beside Starsky.

Traxler turned to Hutch.  “Let me explain.  I think maybe Starsky remembers this little trick – do you Starsky?”

Starsky nodded. 

“Perhaps you’d like to explain.”

“Fuck you! Just get on with it you bastard.”

Traxler puffed on the cigar.  Hutch caught sight of something and wondered if Starsky had seen it…Huggy was in the hallway.

“We did it to a couple of gooks.  Blinded them with a gun.”

Hutch took a deep breath.

“Billy!”

Thorn held the gun about two inches in front of Starsky’s head.  Hutch couldn’t bear to watch – but he knew he had to if only for Starsky’s sake.  The barrel of the gun was parallel with Starsky’s temple.  Thorn fired and Starsky fell forward screaming in pain.

“My eyes!”

 

In the next seconds a second shot rang out and Thorn fell heavily knocking Traxler off the stool and causing him to bang his head against the bar; he lay stunned as Huggy came into the room and somehow managed to release Hutch from the cuffs. “I learned something when I tried to be Huggerini” he whispered.  He handed the Magnum to Hutch and settled to keep Thorn covered.

 

Starsky lay very still.  Although his hands were cuffed behind him, they could see that something was badly wrong with one shoulder.  He groaned as Hutch touched him.

Hutch pulled him up and gasped.  The powder burn had taken off Starsky’s long eyelashes and most of his eyebrows.  His eyelids were red-raw with burns and there was blood flowing from his wounds.  Hutch held him close with his left arm and kept the Magnum trained on Traxler.

“Go and radio for help Huggy and tell them to get an ambulance here fast.”

_My eyes…I wish I was dead._

 

Hutch was holding him close.  He looked again at the burned damage on his best friend’s face.  “Starsk,” he whispered, “I’m here kiddo.  Come close.”

Starsky leaned into the comfort of Hutch’s strong embrace.

“Oh god it hurts.  I’m blind Hutch…I could have handled losing the leg but when I thought I’d lost my eye…” his voice faltered and Hutch hugged him again.  He stroked the wild curls that were singed by the blast. “Ssh, don’t talk; we’ll get you to the hospital and let the medics check you out.”

He tried to sound hopeful but he knew that he’d have to be very convincing to fool Starsky.

“That bad huh?”

“Sssh.”

“Hutch?”

“Yes?”

“It hurts and I can’t cry.  My eyes won’t cry!”  He sobbed and Hutch went on stroking and soothing and rocking his injured partner.

 

It seemed like hours to Hutch.  He sat on the floor hugging and rocking Starsky in a desperate attempt to keep him calm; when he felt his friend’s body relax he knew that the pain and shock had finally won and Starsky had passed out.

Huggy sat with his gun still aimed at Thorn’s head and Hutch had Traxler covered.

“You’ll pay for this Traxler; believe me you’ll pay.”

“Yea,” Huggy chimed in, “this time you have two eye-witn…” he broke off and looked at Starsky slumped against Hutch.

“Two eye witnesses, you can say it Huggy, even three – Starsky saw what you were doing to him after all.  And believe me he’ll be fit to testify whatever you think.”

Traxler sneered.  “You really think so.  He spent how long in the nut house the last time?”

Hutch reviewed the temptation to put a bullet through his head there and then.

“Shut the fuck up!”

 

The ambulance arrived.  Huggy tossed Hutch a set of keys that he’d taken from Thorn’s pocket.  “I saw Starsky’s car in the garage – follow the ambulance in it.  I’ll be right behind. Just as soon as the cops have taken these two away.

“Are you sure you can handle them Hug?”

“He won’t be alone.”  Dobey was standing in the doorway; he watched as they lifted Starsky onto a stretcher and placed compresses on his face.  He shook his head and then turned his attention to Traxler and Thorn.  “You have the right to remain silent….”

 

Starsky felt himself being lifted onto a gurney and wheeled along. The cool of the outside air hit his face and he thought he blinked. He felt the jolt as the gurney was transferred to the waiting ambulance.  
  
 _How long does it take to develop the other senses when you’re blind?_

He thought of the girl he had blinded temporarily with a stray bullet. It seemed that her sense of touch and of hearing had sharpened overnight. He could still feel her fingers on his face as he tried to encourage her to continue her sculpture; and the way she tweaked his nose for getting fresh!

_I wonder if I'll be able to make a model by feel? Dumb idea!_

 Someone touched his arm. "Officer Starsky; can you hear me?" It was one of the paramedics.

"I can hear you fine; I just can't see you!" His voice was weak.

"I'm sorry; let me see what I can do here." Starsky felt something lift from his face he hadn't noticed before but someone must have put some kind of dressing over his eyes.  
  
He heard the paramedic suck in his breath in shock.

_Oh God, they look so bad they had to cover them up!_

"Jeez, poor guy!"

"Hey! The poor guy can hear you and he hates pity, OK? So how bad is it?"

"I…uh...uh"

"Lookit; if you won't tell me I'll find someone who will; where's Hutch?"

“He’s meeting us at Memorial. I'm sorry I didn’t mean it to sound like that but..." "Yeah?" Starsky's voice hardened.

"There are powder burns and you don't have any lashes or eyebrows any more. There's no sign of a deep burn though. I mean your eyelids look sore, but Ok."

"And my eyes?"

"I can't… I mean you shouldn't... "

“Don’t worry; right now I can't, my eyelids feel like they're stuck closed."

"Does it hurt?"

"Hey are you up for the dumb question of the year award, or what? Yes, it fucking hurts! My eyes are sore like I spent a week lying in the sun and they feel sore inside too! Does that get me the prize for best answer?"

The paramedic's embarrassment was obvious even to a man who couldn’t see. Starsky lightened up. "Hey; don't worry. I'm always a little touchy when I'm blind! Tell you what; find something to relieve the pain and put a nice cool compress on my face willya?"

"I can't put anything wet on the burns, Officer but I will cover your eyes again with a soft compress to protect you from the lights and stuff."

"Thanks." Starsky reached out his good hand and touched the paramedic’s arm. "You're just doing your job.

 

In the recovery room, Starsky was lying on his back, his shoulder now back in its socket and strapped into place and he could feel a dressing being peeled away from his face. This time there was no sharp intake of breath. The doctor had seen worse. He could feel something cool on his skin.

He heard a woman’s voice; gentle, almost loving, spoke close to his face. "I'm just bathing away the powder marks, David. I don’t want to hurt you so say if anything feels bad."

"OK" He was pretty sure he replied.

 

Jodie, her touch was a gentle as his mother’s when she had soothed her distressed son after nightmares. He imagined his mother's fingers as they stroked his cheek. "Ouch!"

"I'm sorry; can you tell me what you felt?"

"It felt like...like...like you pulled the skin off."

"I did. There is a lot of dead burned skin peeling around your eyes. I have to remove what I can so the rest can heal. I'll give you something to soothe it." Soft damp cotton passed over his eyelid.

"How do I look? I mean how scarred will I be?"

"I don’t think you'll have any scars. Right now you look a little odd because you have no brows and lashes; but they will grow back in time."

"And my sight?"

The other doctor cut in. "It will be a couple of days before I can assess that; I'm afraid I don’t want to interfere with the healing around your eyes by examining you too closely. I’m sorry; but that’s how it is".

"That’s Ok, doc. I can wait a couple of days, I guess.”

 

Huggy and Hutch arrived at the same time. 

“Hey buddy, how do you feel?”

_Another one up for the dumb question of the year award. Keep your cool Starsk; they only mean well._

Jodie was by his bedside. “He’s had a sedative – he’s almost out now.”

Hutch sat down to start yet another bedside vigil.

 

How many times had he and Starsky sat at a bedside and watched and prayed that his partner would pull through?  Hutch had lost count long ago. All he knew was that he couldn’t even think about staying in the Police without Starsky and as he watched his partner lying apparently peaceful he bent his head and prayed with all his might for Starsky’s eyes.

 

***********************************

 

Starsky was somewhere in that twilight zone between sleeping and wakefulness - the witching hour for nightmares.  
  
Open your eyes - open them and look at me…. 

  
_Marcus...get out of my head…._  
  
I said open your eyes!  
  
 _And I said get out of my head!_  
  
 _Everything is white - why is everything white? I can see your shape but I can’t see you - everything is white…._  
  
It’s getting foggy in here - red fog - red like my blood - everything is red now - why?  
  
Don’t close the door - there’s no light in here - no - if you close the door I can’t see anything - I have to get out of this room. There is a door -  saw it when it closed - I have to find it - all rooms have doors - I have to find the door - if I open the door I’ll be able to see.  
  
What’s that - a mirror - who is that guy with no eyes?  
  
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! 

_*****************************_  
  


Hutch lifted his head from his prayers and put a soothing hand on Starsky’s arm.

“Ssh, it’s OK I’m here.  You’re having a nightmare.  It’s going to be OK.”

He stayed by Starsky’s bed until dawn then, accepting that Jodie would take over he went home to freshen up.

 

In the bathroom Hutch caught sight of his shirt.  The front was stained with Starsky’s blood and the yellowish liquid that had oozed from his burned face.  Hutch ripped it off and threw it in the trashcan.  He never wanted to see that shirt again – not if it could have been the last thing Starsky ever saw.

 

************************************************

The doctor asked the nurse to remove the bandages from Starsky’s eyes. Jodie sat beside him, holding his hand.  Her colleague and long accepted that her relationship with Starsky was platonic but that it went back a long way.

“I helped him through a lot of pain a long time ago,” was her only explanation when he asked.

Hutch stood and watched, he was still praying.

 

Jodie took a soft compress and soaked it in warm water and worked gently to avoid peeling away any skin that might have stuck.  
  
Hutch could hardly hold back the shock. Starsky’s lash-less eyelids were red and swollen - and the tears were flowing - tears mixed with blood that came from beneath the lids. He looked at the Jodie in horror.  The ophthalmologist stepped into the room and went to examine Starsky.  
  
"His eyes - how bad is it?"  
The doctor gently lifted an eyelid and smiled. "Not nearly as bad as it looks."  
He sat by the bed and touched Starsky’s hand.   "David - can you hear me?"  
Starsky sobbed quietly…"yes" he whispered.  
"David you have had a bad nightmare and you cried….Tell me what you feel."  
"My eyes are burning - I dreamed - I dreamed that there were gone. I saw myself in a mirror - I could see that I had no eyes but when I looked at anything else it was all white and red." He sobbed again. "Hutch...are you there - are you with me?"  
  
"I’m right here Starsk. I’m not going anywhere. Jodie’s here too; we’ll get you through this together.  
  
"David - I’m going to give you something to help you sleep and we are going to replace the bandage until the morning. Tomorrow we’ll see how things really are."  
The doctor gave Starsky a shot and Jodie and Hutch stayed with him until they were sure that he was asleep. Hutch watched his friend sleep - he stayed awake all night in vigil over Starsky and his eyes.  
  
The next morning an orderly came to take Starsky to the ophthalmologist’s office. As he lowered himself into the wheelchair Starsky made a little gesture with his fists. 

"Now David, I’m going to dim the lights…Now it’s OK; the lights are dimmed; I want you to try to open your eyes."  
"I can’t."  
"Why not? Are the lids too sore or can you not move them at all?"  
"I’m scared - I can’t open them - suppose I can’t see…"  
  
"Take your time. Wait one second." The doctor took a compress soaked in lotion and wiped Starsky’s eyelids. He felt the cooling liquid and it seemed like his eyelids were loosened.  
  
The doctor watched carefully as slowly - warily - Starsky opened his eyes.  
  
"Very good David. Tell me what you see."  
  
"Nothing – not even my nightmare.” He turned to the doctor, sensing where the man was standing, “I’m blind!”

 

 

************************************************

 

Hutch moved into Starsky’s apartment. It made more sense because at least Starsky would be in familiar surroundings.  Starsky soon seemed to get his bearings and was able to walk around the place as if there was nothing wrong – except that he had a bandage over his face holding the special burn dressings in place.  The dressings had to be changed every day and Jodie had taught Hutch every detail of the procedure.

“The most important thing is to keep everything sterile. If you touch anything that isn’t sterile you’ll have to wash and disinfect your hands and start over again. Do you understand exactly what that means?”

“Sure.”  Hutch had already washed his hands – scrubbing them and his forearms with the same disinfectant soap that surgery teams use.  He reached for the compresses and picked up the pack.  He removed a compress with a paid of special tweezers and then placed it on the sterile dish.  He brushed the sweat of concentration from his nose and Jodie put out her hand.

“Go and scrub up again Hutch – you touched your nose.”

Hutch never got it wrong again.

 

It was not easy for Hutch. Starsky was even moodier than usual and prone to long periods of deep dark depression.  He was back in the blue mud, swimming against the tide. For every two steps forward there seemed to be one step back.  Starsky needed help eating.  At first he allowed Hutch to cut up his food for him and to put a gentle guiding hand on his as he raised the fork to his mouth. But the day came when he lashed out – flinging the plate across the room and retreating to his room, stumbling against the peacock chair as he went.  Hutch could hear the sobs of anger and frustration.

“Hey Starsk, hey come on it’s OK to get mad now and then.”  He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the other man’s head.  “Come on, calm down now.”  He lifted Starsky gently and rocked him in his arms for a while.  “It’s going to come out right, I know it is.”

“Stop it!  Stop trying to kid me and yourself that everything’s gonna be Ok this time.  _This_ time it really is over.  I’m blind Hutch; _BLIND!_ If he’d shot my legs out I could live with it. I could maybe have found a desk job or even taught at the academy or all the other things they find for a cop who is still useful mentally if not physically.  But I can’t do anything if I can’t see…and that’s why he did it.  He’s destroyed me and I have nowhere to go.  I couldn’t let mom see me helpless, I just couldn’t.” He broke down again ad shrugged himself away from Hutch’s attempts to comfort him.

“Just leave me alone, please.”

Hutch left him raging into his pillow.

 

Dobey called, he needed Hutch to go down to the office to confirm some detail in his report.

“Starsk?”

“Nnnng”

“Starsk, Dobey wants me down at the precinct.  I won’t be long; do you want me to bring anything special for supper?”

There was no reply.  Hutch felt like he was bribing a recalcitrant child, “be good and I’ll bring you ice-cream.”  He left Starsky to fight his demons alone.

 

“How’s he doing?”

“It’s not good Captain.  He’s not like himself – it’s like he’s given in to it.”

Dobey sighed.  He was still hoping that he wouldn’t have to start the process by which Starsky could be pensioned out of the Police with at least a recommendation for bravery.  The Chief had asked him twice in the past two weeks whether Starsky would be returning to work in the foreseeable future and so far Dobey had managed to hide behind the doctor’s refusal to give a definitive prognosis.  He shoved the report across the desk.  “You need to be a little more specific about what Traxler said.”

Hutch picked up the paper and went to his desk.

 

Half an hour later Hutch was in the grocery store near to Starsky’s apartment; he was trawling the shelves looking for something to tempt Starsky to try eating and stop throwing temper tantrums when he couldn’t manage the silverware.  He gave up trying and bought a quart of Starsky’s favourite chocolate chip ice-cream.

 

He opened the door            and came into the apartment. “Starsk?” 

_Oh shit!_

He dropped the ice-cream.

 

Starsky was sitting in his favourite chair he held his gun in his left hand and he was fingering the barrel as if he was wondering what it was for.  His expression of total dejection brought a chill to Hutch’s heart.  He walked over to the side of the chair a quietly as he could.  He stood by his partner’s side, not wanting to disturb him but willing him to be aware of his presence.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “what are you doing?”

Starsky turned his bandaged face towards him.  “I tried but I couldn’t do it.”  He fingered the gun again and then stood up letting the pistol drop from his hands as he walked to his room and closed the door.

Hutch checked the gun.  The clip was full and the safety was off.  He felt the wet of saliva on the end of the barrel.

 Hutch took a moment to pick up the ice-cream and put it in the freezer before going to Starsky’s door.

He knocked and listened.  He couldn’t hear his friend crying but he was sure that he must be doing so.  He opened the door and stepped into the room.

Starsky was sitting on the bed.  If he could see he would have been staring into space and Hutch could sense the sad expression behind the bandages.

“Hey, I bought your favourite ice cream.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Since when did _you_ need to be hungry to eat ice-cream?” He tried to keep it sounding light and cheerful.

“Don’t!  Don’t try to jolly me along, OK!  I’m trying to learn to accept it – so why can’t you?”

Hutch sat down beside him and took one of Starsky’s elegant hands in his.  “Because until the doctor has seen you again, there is nothing to accept.”

 

Starsky withdrew his hand.  “I spoke to Jodie this morning after you left.  She knows better than to lie to me about it.  My chances are 25/75.”

“Or 75/25 depends if you think the glass is empty or full.”

“I can’t see the fucking glass so how can I know!”

Hutch stayed put.

“Listen to me Starsk, if you are going to just cave in then Traxler wins, doesn’t he.”

Starsky sighed. 

“Let me explain what I was doing back then.  After you went out I sat and thought about all the great times we’ve had together and all the times on of us stood by and watched his best friend dying. We’ve always looked out for each other.  But I can’t ask you to be my seeing-eye dog for the rest of your life.  I figured…I didn’t want to be a burden…I didn’t want to go on…but then I realized that you can’t play Russian Roulette with an automatic.”

Hutch swallowed hard.

“I’ll look after you until you can look after yourself.  I know you’d do it for me.  What would you have done if you’d found me sitting thinking of blowing my brains out?  I’ll tell you.  You’d have chewed me out and then talked me round.”

“Hmm.”

Hutch stood up.  “I’m going to serve the ice-cream; it’s there if you want it.”

He left Starsky sitting straight-backed and still.

 

Hutch sat spooning ice-cream and flipping through one of Starsky’s modelling magazines.

He looked at the latest project over on the bureau and the tears stung his eyes as he wondered whether he was just trying to convince himself that things would turn out all right this time.

_Why should it?  We’re just ordinary human beings; we can’t always bounce back like nothing happened.  We’re getting older, we don’t heal so fast – physically or mentally._

The door opened and Starsky made his careful way to his chair.  He hovered before sitting; “is my ice-cream there or do I have to go get it myself?”

Hutch started to stand up.

“Sit down! I’ll get it.”  He went into the kitchen and Hutch was impressed to see that he was able to go straight to the fridge.  He took out the ice-cream tub and then stepped across the room and felt for the cupboard door.  He took out a bowl – nearly dropping a stack of them, and then groped for the drawer to find a spoon.  He put the empty tub on the counter and came back to sit beside Hutch on the sofa.

“Thanks.” He said softly and started to eat.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really; but like my grandma would have said: ‘want to and need to are two different things’.”

“You quote her a lot.”

“I loved her and she meant a lot to me when I was a kid.  I guess she was my port in a storm; a bit like you are.”  He patted Hutch’s hand.  “You are my friend in need.”

“Take your time.”

“Not yet.  I don’t need to any more.  Now about that three quarter full glass – does it have wine or beer in it?”

Hutch laughed. “You’re the one who seems to know about wine – what do your recommend with chocolate chip ice-cream?”

“There’s still a six pack in the fridge!”

 

*****************************************

 

 

Over the next few days thing went up and down.  Hutch took care to keep Starsky’s pistol with him at all times; it wasn’t that he didn’t trust his friend – but he was worried that the blue mud would drag him down.  Finally it was the day to take Starsky to see the ophthalmologist who was supervising his case.

Starsky was silent all the way to the hospital.  He didn’t even comment on the way Hutch drove his precious car.

 

“Wait outside – I want to do this alone.” Starsky allowed the doctor to lead him into the office and Hutch sat in one of the familiar uncomfortable chairs and waited.

 

The doctor dimmed the lights.  “I’m going to remove the bandages now David.”

“OK”

“Take your time.  Open your eyes when you are ready"

Starsky blinked slightly.  His eyelids felt like razor blades. He squinted warily and then smiled briefly.  
"I can see - but I can’t see. I mean I can sort of see you but I can’t see your face."  
"I’m going to turn the lights up just a little so that I can examine your eyes - tell me if I hurt you; if the light hurts your eyes, or if I hurt you when I touch them."  
Starsky remained silent while the doctor examined his eyes.  
  
"I think you should have the bandage to protect your eyes from the light until you get home."  
  
"And when I get back home?"  
"Take off the bandages and get used to the light again!"  
"I always hated being blindfolded!"  
"In that case, keep your eyes closed until you get there - it’s a pretty tall order though.”  
Starsky smiled again.  “OK you win, blindfold me.”

“I’m giving you a prescription for some special polarized goggles.”

“What’s wrong with my Ray Bans; I have really dark ones because of my migraines.”

“They aren’t strong enough and they aren’t built to protect you eyes from all sources of light.  I’m prescribing you with wraparound goggles.”

While he was speaking the ophthalmologist was gently wrapping a soft bandage around Starsky’s eyes.  “By the time you’ve seen the plastic surgeon your goggles will be ready.  Shall I give the prescription to Hutch so he can fetch them?”

“Good idea – give him something to do while he’s waiting.”

 

A nurse came to escort Starsky to the plastic surgeon and the ophthalmologist gave Hutch the prescription.

“Where is she taking him?”

“The plastic surgeon is going to have a look at the skin damage to assess whether Starsky will need surgery.  I don’t think he will – his eye-brows are beginning to grow back and that’s a good sign.

Hutch flashed a toothy grin.  “You should hear him moan how much it itches!”

“I can imagine.  I take it he isn’t an easy patient.”

“He has his moments.”  Hutch looked at the paper the doctor had handed him.

“Protective goggles, until his sight eyes get used to the light; he’s going to need them – otherwise he’ll never get beyond the shadows that he’s seeing right now.”

“Shadows?  You mean…”

“He hasn’t lost his sight. When you get home keep the light dim for a few hours – draw the shades if you must; make sure that he is wearing the goggles before you increase the light level. He should start with a short period each day.   He _must_ wear them all the time when he is on normal light until I see him again.”

 

Starsky and the nurse returned; the bandage had been replaced by a soft cotton band that held compresses in place over each eye.  Hutch could smell some kind of lotion.

Starsky grinned. “He still doesn’t know if I’ll need surgery to restore my good looks – but he reckons that these things will make my skin softer than a baby’s butt.”

 

Starsky was still a little subdued on the ride home; Hutch let it go.

 

 

 

*********************************************

Every day he took off the compresses for a little longer.  Every day he was sure that the shadows were getting clearer.  He’d had his second visit with the eye-doctor and he was making progress, but not fast enough for David Starsky.

 

He took the compresses off his eyes and squinted for a moment then reached for the goggles that he was beginning to hate. The ophthalmologist had been brutal with him and he knew better than to try to shortcut things this time.  
  
"If you don’t protect your eyes for at least another couple of weeks I’m not guaranteeing that you won’t lose your sight completely."  
"But I can see."  
"Well enough to drive?"  
"No...OK you win; I can see but everything is blurred - like in a romantic movie when they make the screen go all fuzzy! Sometimes it’s more like I see shadows."  
  
The ophthalmologist had shoved a printed page in front of him.  
"Can you read this?"  
He’d stared at what looked like a series of footprints left on a table by a drunken fly that had stepped in coffee  
"No!"  
"And the card on the wall?"  
He had tried - God knows he’d tried; but all he could read was the first row of letters.  
  
So now he put on the goggles and protected his eyes from the slightest light. At least no-one could see the physical damage. And it itched like hell right now! He was grumpy and unresponsive as Hutch drove him home.

“I have a couple of things to do, Starsk.  I’ll be over in about an hour and then we can talk about it. OK”

“Yeah.”

 

******************************

 

 

He knew that Hutch would be coming over soon and he was still trying to work out how he felt.  He heard the key in the door and waited for Hutch to come in.

 

Hutch had a bag of donuts and he dumped it on the counter while he made them a pot of coffee.  He handed Starsky his cup and waited.  Starsky placed his cup carefully on the table – a little too near the edge.

 

"I see shadows. I can’t always judge distances. I can’t make out colors. I guess I’m operating on my knowledge…I know my way around my apartment - and I can find my way around your house. I’d be ok at headquarters… I could fool people I guess. But I can’t fool myself, Hutch! I’m scared. Remember when I blinded that girl? I went home and I spent most of the day blindfold (and you know how the thought of being blindfold terrifies me); I got bored and scared - and I was only trying it out. Now I might just have to get used to it for real. It’s not just that I can’t see properly, either. It’s trying to see how my life will be if I can’t do my job - the thing I love doing."

He broke off and his lip quivered as he fought to keep control.

 

“You’re getting there Starsk.  Remember how it was for her too – the first blur she saw saved your life.”

“I guess you’re right; I just have to be patient…and I’ve never been very good at that.”

 

The weeks passed and with each day Starsky saw something else a little more clearly.  Hutch kept him up to date with the case against Traxler and Thorn.

“Traxler’s slippery; he managed to get bail.  He hasn’t pulled out of the election and his opponent is making hay with the whole story.  As for Thorn, it seems when he fell, he did some damage to the false leg _and_ to the stump.  Apparently they took off the rest of his thigh.”

“I should think it serves him right – but poor bastard, that means he’s going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life I guess.”

“Well he won’t have to deal with stairs in the prison!”

“True.”

 

They sat in silence for a while.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah?”

I need you to take me somewhere.”

“Anywhere.  Where do you want to go?”

“The library.”

Hutch choked on his donut.

“Huh?”

“It’s simple.  I need to exercise my eyes and everything here or in your apartment is too familiar. I need something I haven’t seen every day.  I reckoned if I sat in the library and tried to read the titles of the books on a shelf that would be a good way of doing it.”

“Will you find me a bedtime story?”

Starsky threw a cushion at him.  “I don’t think they have that kind of stuff!”

 

 

*************************************************

 

 

Hutch arrived at ten sharp to take Starsky for what he hoped would be the last appointment at the hospital.  The plastic surgeon had already declared that the healing was doing fine without his intervention and the good news was that Starsky probably wouldn’t have any scars because it was in effect a layer of skin that had to grow back, not just burned-off patches.

 

Starsky left Hutch in the waiting area and headed up to the ophthalmologist’s office.

 

He waited obediently while the doctor examined his eyes. "Tell me if I cause you any discomfort, David."  
  
Nothing hurt enough to make it worth telling the doc. All Starsky wanted was an ‘all clear’ to drive…but he knew that if he cheated he would only put himself and others in danger. The moment he was dreading came. The doctor turned replaced the usual test chart so that there was no chance that his patient could work from memory -intentionally or unintentionally.  
  
Starsky started to read the lines - all of them. "You want me to read the copyright details and the printer’s address too?"  
  
The doctor smiled. "I think I can clear you to go back to work. Keep a pair of strong shades handy in case your eyes get sore or tired. Your lashes are growing back - but be ready to protect your eyes from dust; because they might not filter enough yet."  
  
Starsky almost danced out of the room. He made his way down to where Hutch was waiting.  He clicked his fingers “Keys.”  Hutch grinned broadly and handed them over.

“Welcome back buddy!”

“Yeah well I’ll be really happy when I can take these goddamn things off.” He touched the goggles as he spoke.  “Actually the doc said I would be OK with my Ray Bans but I caught a look of myself this morning when I was shaving and I don’t think the world is ready for the way I look.”

 

He skipped down the steps and stopped for a second to look at his beloved car before getting in behind the wheel and staring the engine.

“Come on Blondie, unless you want to walk home.”

 

*************************************

 

Traxler’s case was finally coming to court.  He was to stand trial for the attempted blinding of a police officer.  He was also accused of murder.  Thorn was to face the same charges.

Jameson was also putting together the case against him for war-crimes and his lawyers were desperately trying to argue their client out of a Court Martial.

In both cases Starsky’s testimonies would be crucial.

 

They arrived at the Court building fifteen minutes in advance.  Hutch started to walk to the court room and Starsky adjusted his tie and his goggles and made his usual detour via the men’s room.

Dobey was waiting when he appeared.

“Why are you wearing those things again, Starsky?” He pointed to the goggles.

“A little dramatic effect, Captain.  Trust me.”

Dobey slipped into the courtroom and Hutch stayed with Starsky on the bench waiting for the witness to be called.

When the court clerk came to call Starsky, Hutch rose and took his place next to Dobey.

 

Starsky sat perfectly straight in the witness stand.  Hutch knew that his feet were planted so that his legs were at perfect right angles thigh to calf.  The goggles made him seem both vulnerable and yet sinister and Starsky was playing up the effect.

Hutch scanned the jury. _Great there are a couple of women for him to play the heartstrings._

Starsky sat and told his tale in a quiet steady voice. The members of the jury and the court-room audience listened in horrified silence.  
  
Starsky had just gotten to the part when he was thinking of testifying to JAG what seemed like a thousand years ago; he paused and asked for a glass of water. He knew that this was the moment to play up the melodrama and emphasize exactly what kind of a man Traxler was. He deliberately misplaced the glass close to the edge of the judge’s desk.  The judge was woman in her early fifties, she glanced at the glass and positioned it so that it would not tip over.

The judge had leaned across her desk to ask.

"Officer Starsky; may I ask you why you are wearing those outrageous glasses?"  
"I was coming to that ma’am. Perhaps when you have heard the story…"  
"Please; go on."  
  
Starsky started to describe how he had been forced to his knees in front of Traxler. He heard a woman gasp as he explained about the way Thorn had been told to blind him. He decided to play things to the full. As he told them about the moment when Thorn fired the gun; he slowly removed the goggles.  
  
The silence was amazing. Everyone in the room seemed to be shocked beyond comment.  
  
"It probably looks a lot better than it did." Starsky said grimly. "My eyebrows and lashes are growing back - and that is pretty much torture too Ladies and Gentlemen. You could say that it is Traxler’s last offering of pain. My vision is coming back, but I can not see you clearly. Excuse me; if I want to recover my sight, I must put the goggles back on - the lights…"

The judge asked if there were any more questions.  Traxler’s attorney didn’t move.

 

  
************************************

 

Starsky and Hutch were in The Pits and Huggy was grinning from ear to ear listening to the argument.

“And I’m telling you I can beat you with no trouble.”

“Ok smart ass, here.”  Hutch handed Starsky three darts and waited for his partner to lose the game.  It was only a week after the trial and they were celebrating the fact that Traxler and Thorn had both gone down for life; and the Army hadn’t finished with them either.

 

Starsky stood and looked at the darts as if he had to see them clearly in his hand.  He took off the Ray Bans and his friends were relieved to see the dark lashes beginning to grow again.  His eyebrows were almost back to their full thickness.

He took a step forward and peered at the board before taking his position on the line.

He aimed the first dart and it struck the board. Satisfied with the results he threw the second dart.  He paused and turned to grin at Huggy and Hutch.  He threw the third dart.

Starsky grinned at Hutch and punched him playfully on the arm. “Sharpshooter; airborne division.”

Huggy was removing the three darts that had all landed neatly within the tiny inner circle of the board.

“Now what was it you bet me?  Oh yes, dinner at that flashy Pizza joint on Sunset; are you coming too Hug?”

“It will be a pleasure.”

Starsky grinned.  “I hear they do the most amazing things with pizza.”

“Yea,” said Huggy, “and with your wallet!”

 

*************************************************

**************************

***************

 

 

Footnotes

      Some readers will recognize some of the scenes in this story. I worked on a joint story on website and like many writers I re-use short sketches from earlier writing; or I used the earlier writing to experiment with the idea….whatever; this is really what I had in mind when I wrote the scene

 

 

 

Every war has had its atrocities; and since the beginning of time no army can be exempted.

We have become used to seeing them reported on our TV screens – the Holocaust; mass shootings in Bosnia; inter-tribe killings in Africa; the Janjaweed in Darfur; Abu Gharaib etc., etc., etc. ad infinitum and ad nauseam.

 

Political commentators at the time and historians ever since have speculated that My Lai was not an isolated case….but until the generation that fought that war has gone we will probably never know; although the recently released CIA documents are beginning to show evidence of other so-called covert operations.

 

The standard excuse of the perpetrators of war-time atrocities has always been “I was just carrying out orders” but as the Nuremberg Trials revealed those who gave the orders did so knowing what they were doing and many of those who carried them out were (to use Simon Schama’s title) Hitler’s willing helpers. 

Armies attract fine young men with a sense of duty and they also attract “natural born killers”.  War brings out the worst of humanity.

 

My descriptions of the village massacre are an amalgam of war-crimes over the years.

As for the torture scene in the jungle clearing…after the Pacific War was brought to an end by the bombing of Hiroshima and the allies began to discover the fate of those held by the Japanese; some US personnel took their own revenge – with coke bottles (one story goes that a future US President – then a Lieutenant – suggested that the Marines should use Pepsi bottles instead).  Ironically his presidency was marked by his dirty dealing.   I mention no names….but some of you will guess who the tricky guy was.

 

Apart from that – all resemblance to any person living or dead…etc..etc..etc.

 

 


End file.
